12 Days of Rubbish
by LadyCerise1891
Summary: Hermione's life isn't quite like she'd expected. She and Ron have split, Fred's being a git and Ginny is constantly in hysterics over her many awkward moment. Christmas alone only adds insult to injury until a mysterious owl starts bringing gifts wrapped in a clever bit of magic. A/U. Post Battle of Hogwarts. One-Shot.


A/N: Merry Christmas! I've always thought it would be cute for wizards to have charmed wrapping paper that would change on Christmas. And with Hermione being muggle born and my brain in full Fremione mode, this story began unravelling in my mind. I meant  
to upload it last night but I'm rubbish with endings and I'm not sure this ones any good, but hey, I tried.

Hope y'all like it. This is one of my longer one-shot endeavours. J.K. Rowling owns all the things. Reviews are always appreciated. Much love and happy holidays!

* * *

Hermione stared at the owl, which was perched on her window sill, whom she did not recognise in the slightest. He was a pretty thing, rather large and and a tawny brown. She racked her brain as to who the owl would belong to. Possibly Ginny, but even  
when she was traveling with the HollyheadHarpies she still tended to use Russell.

Hermione involuntarily rolled eyes at the thought of Harry's owl. Hagrid had been so heartbroken over Hedwig that the wonderful man had bought him a new one. He'd also taken the liberty of naming the equally beautiful light grey owl.

"Oh, Hagrid." She smiled fondly at her visitor. "He's wonderful with animals of all sorts. Can't name them for the life of him, though. An owl named "Russell?" Can you imagine?" He looked at her with intelligent eyes that were definitely telling her to  
just take the damn box so he could get on his way.

She did and he nipped her affectionately before taking off. She watched him for a moment, always having been envious of owl owners. Granted, she didn't regret getting Crookshanks her third year. Still, she always considered purchasing one when ever she  
was running errands in Diagnol Alley.

Sighing, thoughts of owls dismissed to the "maybe" corner of her mind, she closed the window, effectively cutting off the winter air. She stayed on her window seat for a moment, package in one hand as the other rubbed her arm to gain friction and fight  
the cold. She studied the package as she sat there.

Shrugging to no one but herself and Crookshanks, she stood and placed the package under the small Christmas tree she had fashioned in her meagre flat. Standing back she observed the effect it added. A spot was filled and she was satisfied that the package  
had given her one instruction: wait until Christmas.

That task out of the way, she cut the lights and went back to bed. She wasn't one to accept gifts normally, but a lot had changed in the years following the war. She was lonely, admittedly by choice, and was willing to admit to herself that it felt a  
little uplifting to receive something. Plus, Christmas was just around the corner. She could make an exception, but just this once.

The next night, the owl was back. A letter was his burden that time. When she took it and sent him on his way, he nipped her, again. She watched him fondly, then shut the winter cold out. When she scanned the tree to find where she'd put the parcel from  
the night before, she was taken aback.

The paper the gift, she was now sure it was one, had changed. The night before it had been a standard brown, with a slight decorative sheen that made it shimmer snowflakes when turned in the light. To her surprise, the paper was now a repetitive image  
of a partridge in a pear tree.

Her fingers impulsive tighten on the envelope as she did a mental count down to the 25th. That day had marked twelves days out. According to the Twelve Days of Christmas carol, that would have been the first gift given by "the true love" the narrator  
spoke of.

"I'm so foolish, Ginny."

Red hair took over the girls field of vision as her friend completed a rather quick 180 to face her. Her cry of a contradiction was loud enough to cause most of the patrons of Flurish and Blotts to pause in their activities to observe the girls. Hermione  
blushed and murmured apologies to those closest to them.

"You such your damn mouth!" She sighed heavily to calm herself when Hermione's eyes widened at her outburst. "I know what your thinking. It's not him."

"But I sang that at least 23 times in the 3 years we dating and I can't even fathom the number of repetitions he had to endure during our Hogwarts days." She picked up a quill and ink well set with out really looking at it and immediately set it back  
down. "I don't know how thandle this situation, Ginny. I don't want to involve Harry or you, but I need advice."

Ginny stared her down before groaning and nodding her head. "Right, yeah. Listen, they're my brothers. You're my friend, though. I'll come around next week with a bottle of wine and some food stuffs."

She hugged her friend and the red head huffed. "You bottle things in too much, 'Moine. You don't have to carry every burden alone."

She nodded mechanically and moved toward the set of quills she'd wanted to get. They finished their small shopping exertion quickly and stopped at Hermione's flat so Ginny could Floo home. She paused upon reaching for the jar of powder and gave the other  
girl another once over.

"Yes, Ginny?"

She huffed, again. "I just know you're already over thinking this whole thing. It's not always a plot or prank."

Another mechanical nod and Ginny was on her grumpy way. Without someone else there, the flat felt oddly empty. She'd lived on her own for nearly a year, but distance only made the emptiness feel more encompassing.

"We'll be fine Crookshanks." The car mewled and rubbed against her leg once before sauntering to the bed room to sleep. "Right. We'll be okay."

There was a tapping at the window and her heart fluttered against her wishes. With a small smile on her lips, she retrieved the small parcel from the now familiar creature. She still didn't know his official name and hadn't written to ask. She was concerned  
and anxious, but didn't want to take away the thrill of not knowing her anonymous gift giver was.

"Thank you, sir." He nipped her fingers as usual, but didn't fly off. "What's gotten into you?"

He cocked his head, hooted affectionately and flew passed her into her living room. With a bit of familiarity, he settled on the back of her couch. He gazed at her expectantly as she remained by the window in mild shock.

"What are you doing, you daft thing?" His head jerked toward the package in her hand. "Oh, that's new."

The letter was on standard parchment and its seal held no crest or mark to indicate the author. She tentatively fingered the edge, the feeling of mystery slipping away the longer she pondered. With an encouraging hoot from across the room, she broke the  
wax and opened it carefully.

 _"Miss Granger, I hope this letter finds you well. There are many concerned about you, myself included. Still, you have always been able to manage things. My concerns lay mostly in the very high possibility that you won't seek the counsel of others. Be well, Hermione."_

She felt the corners of mouth lift.

 _"Ps: no need to respond. Half the romance is in the mystery."_

She blushed and chuckled softly.

 _"Pss: don't read into that. I was referring to the romance of the season. Unless you do end up falling wildly in love with me, which is nearly impossible to avoid. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. And lastly, Psss: the bird, Godwin, is yours. But, you can't keep him yet, nor is he part of my holiday fun. Simply let him out in the morning or when you get home. He likes to hunt at night. Around 1 am, actually, and sleep most of the day."_

She looked at the bird, a single brow raised in curiosity. "Godwin?" He blinked and shook his feathers out. "Right. Well, it's better than "Russell," yeah?"

With that she went to bed. Godwin perched himself on her arm so she could carry him into her room and made himself comfortable on the back of her reading chair. She reread the note once to be sure she had not missed any information, and also because it  
was rather sweet.

She was awoken by Godwin around 1. She stayed awake reading, window open and wrapped in her favorite throw blanket, until he returned. She read the letter, again, on an impulse she couldn't find a rational reason for.

The next morning, she was yawning as she made her way to her desk in the Regulation and Care of Magical Creatures Department. Her department head called for her before she could even place her satchel down. She breathed deep to get oxygen in her blood  
and hopefully to her brain.

"Yes, Mr. Thawnwick. What can I do for you?" She blinked rapidly to remove the sleep from her gaze and hopefully keep the lids from doooping further. "Sir?"

"Why are you here, Miss Granger? You've got at least 18 hours of over time logged from the Unicorn smuggling incident. I'm giving you approval to take some time off, paid, and relax." When Hermione's mouth popped open to decline, he raised his hand up  
to silence her. "Scratch that, I'm telling you. Go home. Sleep!"

"Oh, sir, I see where our lines are crossed now. I was not yawning because of the case work. I was recently gifted an owl who's habit is to hunt around 1 am." Her voice was insistent, borderline hysterical, in an effort to advert the terrible idea he  
was suggesting. "I simply am not used to being woken at such odd hours. I'll be acclimated and sorted come the end of the week."

His expression gave nothing away. "Miss Granger, do I seem to you a sympathetic soul? Do I radiate consideration and comradery?"

She silently shook her head. "So, when I've said I want you to go home, on paid leave, until after the holiday, why would you assume I want to know about an owl? It's purely for selfish reasons. Once the nonsense of Christmas festivities have passed,  
we'll be swamped with cases of illegal creature imports, sales, captures, etc.. I need you ready and fresh. Go home."

She nodded, shamed into silence at having questioned him. Returning to her desk she retrieved her things and left. Deciding to walk through Diagon Ally, she slowly made her way home through the frantic crowd of witches and wizards.

"Oi, Granger!" She raised her eyes and blushed when she found herself outside of Weasley's Wizards Wheezes. "What are you doing about in this madness? Would of thought you had your shopping all sorted."

She smiled cautiously at the odd eared man. "Oh, yes. That's all settled. I'm on my way home. Big case just got finished and I need to rest up for the post holiday madness and horror."

George nodded, a bemused twinkle in his eye. "Hermione Granger, having a little lie during working hours? Must be the end of days."

She rolled her eyes and began to go on her way, but he darted out of the entry way and into the street to stop her. "Hold up now. What's the hurry? No time to chat with your favorite twin? I mean, Fred is a bit tide up at the mo, but I'm sure I can pull  
him away from the cauldron for a moment. Especially if it's a moment with you."

She didn't feel the need to dignify his teasing with an answer and attempted to move around him. He shot his arms and pulled her back around. His brow was furrowed in genuine concern and she sighed heavily, his words bearing down on her chest like a great  
weight.

"George, I know you don't mean anything by it. I've made a fool of myself with Fred, alienated your mother and, worst of all, almost lost Ron entirely. I-." She paused and blushed as the words caught in her throat. "I just need more time. Just need to  
get my head clear."

"Hell, Granger it's been nearly a year. It's not that hard to work out." She cut him a look that made his face shift from aggravated to sincere. "Okay. No more joking and no more badgering. I actually was going to come round the Ministry around end of  
day to try and catch you. We've got a project going that we wanted your sign off on. Actually, Fred was too eager and bloody proud of himself. He put it on sale already, which is good considering the timing. We tried to get Ginny to bring you around  
but she's more stubborn than you some days."

Hermione let him drag her into the shop. The sales floor was packed tighter than ever. Angelina waved at her from the counter, and nudged the tall red head beside her. He popped his head around the group mulling about a display and smiled.

"Oi, don't you dare abandon that woman to man the counter alone, you great nub." He shook his head as Ron's face shifted to one of annoyance. "I swear, you break his heart and he's still like a beagle chasing a bird. Anyway, over here."

She gave Ron a meek wave, and followed George toward the other end of the shop. He pulled a roll of brown parchment from a display and passed it over. She recognized the feel as soon as her fingers grasped it.

"You've been selling this?" Her eyes flew upward to the sign. "12 days of Charms. Fun for witches and wizards alike. Cut the paper and watch the countdown begin."

He made a sweeping gesture and her eyes followed the motion, taking in the various packaging possibilities they offered. Everything from envelopes to boxes to bags. She tried not to scream.

"You've been selling this?"

George nodded, watching her with a look she couldn't decipher. "Yup. Started on the 1st."

"Well, I can tell you they work. It's some of your best magic." She felt herself deflate as she spoke, realising the thing she was banking on to find her mystery Santa was no longer reliable. "I'm wickedly impressed, George. You two have outdone yourselves."

"Well, thanks, pet." She turned so fast she accidentally hit George with roll of paper in her hands. "Was my idea, after all. Don't let that prat of a brother of mine tell you otherwise."

Her face warmed under his gaze. "'Lo, Fred. Fancy running into you here." Her blush spread. "In your shop."

He winked at her, smile soft. "Been a while. Missed having you around. My ego has taken quite a hit, not getting your severally reluctant praise."

She nodded, her neck stiff and shoulders tense. "Well, there you go. You should be good for another year." A hysterical chuckle burst from her lips. "Right, then. Bye, Fred!"

"Oi!"

She was so flustered she bumped into a display. "Oh, and of course, George. You, too! And thanks for showing me the, well, yeah."

She heard Fred begin to lay into George but was out the door before she could weigh the pros and cons of listening in. She'd already been dreading the week to come, but the whole encounter in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was enough to make her cry in frustration.

The next few days were all filled with book shop runs, trips to muggle London and hours spent in cafes. Godwin would bring her gifts when he'd come home in the evening and hunt just around 1 am. Crookshanks began adjusted, although begrudgingly, to the  
adopted routine.

She wanted to disregard the gifts when they came. Resigned herself to throwing the lot away in the morning. Told herself she didn't care, and didn't want them. It didn't stop her from carefully arranging them under her tree, though.

"Glad to see you haven't tossed them." Ginny came into her flat, using her emergency key and toting take away bags and a bottle of wine. "I was sure you would. Oh, shush! I know you have a bottle or two, but I said I would bring one. Plus, I think I wanna  
crash at yours tonight. Yeah?"

Soon they were giggling and struggling not to simply lay on the floor. "Oh, Ginny. You should have seen me! "Fancy seeing you here?" What is wrong with me?"

Ginny's face lost its humour instantly. "You've got a lot going." That sobered the other girl up for only a moment before they were both a mess, once more. "Seriously, though! You kind of do. You're practically running your department and you still have  
to field annoying journalists. Especially after last year. Oh, shit! Sorry."

Hermione waved her off, subconsciously bypassing her glass and grabbing the bottle of wine directly. "I need to get over it. I know I do. Both Ron and I agreed that our debacle was a train wreck a long time coming. It was inevitable, us breaking it off."

Ginny nodded, taking on a sagely expression. "Yes, yes. We were all just waiting for you to catch on. All three of you. Mom doesn't want to admit it, but she at least knew you and Ron weren't good for each other. In the end anyway."

"Well, can you get her to talk to me, then? She won't answer any of my owls. I miss her. She was more of a mother to me than my own could be, sometimes, since I started at Hogwarts."

Ginny groaned loudly. "That woman. It's pride now! Bullheaded, Weasley pride. She'll be a blubbering, apologetic mess come Christmas. I assure you."

Hermione hummed and took a deep pull from the bottle she had forgotten she was holding. "I am a mess, though. I can't stand this not working nonsense. I need a distraction. This is "bloody bullshit, right here." To quote Ron at some point, I'm sure."

Ginny did fall over at that point. "Oh, Merlin! You're right. All the time." She was useless for a bit after that but finally made some success, after several attempts, to quell her hysterics. "Now, about eFred. I think you should try having another go.  
Now, don't scream my ear off. You ran like you woke up next to Voldemort, you're words. That's not really a good judgement of who reacted how. You're usually much more studious than that."

"Yes, yes. You can tell I handle embarrassing emotional situations extremely well from my track record. I never once attacked Ron with birds or both physical and verbally harassed Harry and him over they're stupidity with women over the years."

Ginny tucked in on the couch just after Godwin had returned from his nightly hunting. Hermione tidied up a bit and took care of the rubbish. Just before going to bed, she caught sight of the most recent package as it's charm activated to show the day  
the of the carol.

"10 lords a leaping." She snorted at the colourful figures. "Clever, clever magic. Why do you have to be so secretive and wickedly smart, Fred."

"Same to you, you great nub." She turned and, as a reflex reaction, hit Ginny with a throw pillow. "Oi! To bed with you. You have a whole day of moping a head of you."

"Night, Ginny."

"Night, 'Moine."

The next morning, Fred greeted them as they exited Hermione's building. She actually completed a full 180 degree turn before Ginny caught her arm. With an exasperated sigh and bored eye roll, she turned her friend around marched her toward the tall red  
head waiting on the sidewalk.

"Morning, Hermione. Sis." He nodded at both of them then turned his gaze on Hermione. "How are you? I was hoping I could accompany you to muggle London, if you don't mind. Wanted to have a word or three."

"Oh? Three words. That's big stuff for you, Fred. Think you can handle that? I have my doubts." Ginny nudged the frizzy statue next to her, making it to move in a reluctant shuffle toward him. "Photographic evidence, or I won't believe it."

"Right you are, sister. Will make sure to get it all down for posterity, and your approval." He looked back to the other girl with inquiring eyes. "Please?"

She attempted to turn, but was once a again stopped by Ginny. With a huff, she nodded and said her good byes to the red haired demon. She made sure to issue appropriate death threats as they hugged, and she took the opportunity to pinch her severely.

"I'll talk to mum."

She almost regretted pinching her. "Thank you! Be sure to tell her that I know I'm wretched."

"I will do no such thing."

Fred followed her into London. They made spares small talk, commenting on the differences in the muggle festivities. She tried to calm her nerves, which only sky rocketed at the ease she felt around him despite the butterflies in her stomach.

"So, George said you were taking time off. I'm glad to hear someone talked some sense into you. For Godrich's sake, I could never even get you to take an extra half on your lunch." His smile turned sour for a moment before he brought it back under control.  
"Can't imagine you're doing it proper enough to enjoy it, though. That would be a right Christmas miracle if it were true."

Hermione chose to ignore his blatant baiting and instead showed him London. She was as thorough as she could manage. She showed him shops and took him to cafes for treats and coffee. She took him to a pub for lunch. She even dragged him into a cinema.  
They caught a small macabre play to finish the night.

She was so determined to keep him entertained she didn't notice the whole thing had been rather like a date. He'd even paid, she would realise later, since she was too preoccupied thinking the next thing to keep him preoccupied. He'd kept his mouth shut,  
another frustrating observation made after the fact, and took full advantage of her distraction.

"Well, I saw more than I was anticipating today, Granger." He paused with her at the entrance to her building as she dug her keys out of her purse. "I can walk you up? Or we could grab a pint down at the Leaky Cauldron. Haven't done that in a while."

Her fingers grasped around her keys as she shook her head. "No, that wouldn't be a good idea. I'm rather knackered, so it's straight to bed with me."

As she'd done all day, her following action was on impulse. She raised up on her toes and kissed him goodnight. She would argue that she was only going to give him a peck on the cheek. Rant that he had leaned down to foil her innocent intentions. None  
of the contradictions in the world could erase the warm fuzzy feeling that took over her brain and made her lean her lean into him, though.

It was when his hand grazed her waist that she crashed back to reality. She pulled away and felt a blush exploding all over face and down her neck. With out a word, she grabbed the purchases she was at the moment realising he'd bought her and hurried  
through the front door. She nearly ran up the stairs and didn't stop moving until her flat door was securely behind her back and bolted.

Taking a moment to breathe and clear her head, she leaned against the door for support. She dropped her bags and she let out a strangled sigh. Growing more cautious with every passing second she inched her way to the window and peaked around the frame  
to spy him still on the street and looking up at her. With a burst of energy, she quickly locked the window pane and closed the curtains. As she fell onto her couch, she huffed and buried her head into a throw pillow.

She left the latch on the window and curtains pulled until Godwin tapped on the pane. He flew in and dropped her gift as he passed. That evening's package was heavier than usual, which took her by surprise. She weighed in it her hands, pondering, before  
giving up and placing it with the others.

The next morning she simply Floo'd to Ginny's to avoid even going near the twins' shop. An affair that of course meant she had to tell the other girl everything. Which, also meant that she had to endure the hysterical laughter at her expense. Even Harry  
had to struggle to contain his amusement and maintain a sympathetic expression.

She was prepared to embark into muggle London when Ginny wrenched her away from the door. "Where the Hell do you think you're going? Get back to the table and sit."

Confused, she let the other girl sit her down at the table. Harry placed a plate in front her and handed her a cup of coffee. She took a cautious sip and looked between the two of them.

"Hermione, we have some news."

Hermione struggled to get her coffee down. "Oh, Merlin. You're pregnant?"

Both turned white as a sheet and began shaking their heads vigorously. "No, 'Mione. Do you know what day it is?"

Ginny frowned severely at her bewildered expression. "Christmas Eve! It's Christmas Eve."

Hermione nearly dropped her cup of coffee. "No it's not. Don't be silly."

"What did last night's packaging turn into?"

Hermione felt her own face pale now. "11 pipers piping. Oh, shit!"

"Now. I know that you've been very stressed and you've been doing everything you can you do to distract yourself. So, we're gonna barrel on through Christmas Eve dinner at my parents. Give it five minutes and you two will be thick as thieves, again. Well,  
not that, but back to what you used to be! Maybe."

Hermione's eyes flicked to the fireplace in the living room as mild panic set in. Ginny saw her begin shifting toward the edge of her seat. She nudged Harry forward with a swift elbow to his side.

"Grab her."

The side by side apparition on to the Weasley property was one of the more unpleasant experiences Hermione could call to mind. Both keeping a firm grip on her, the made they're way to the front door. Harry pat her hand to reassure her and Ginny opened  
the front door the front the door.

"That'll be Harry and Ginny, Arthur! I'll get it, dear. You stay where you are." There was a bit of shuffling from kitchen and as Mrs. Weasley came around the corner her face changed from jovial to shocked as she laid eyes on the third member of the Potter  
party. "Oh! And Hermione."

There was the crashing from further inside the Burrow as Ron came rushing to the entry way. "Excellent! You two nabbed her. Glad to see your plan worked."

"We never got around to using it." Harry took up the rear as Ginny guided their way passed the older witch and into the den. "She popped over by way of Floo and we distracted her with her breakfast. Actually, she completely forgot what day it was."

Ron shook his head. "'Mione, I've been saying it for years: you need to get your priorities straight. Get in the kitchen. We need your help. Mum's been on a war path since dawn and your way better at following instruction than I am."

Hermione and Mrs. Weasley were rather busy, though. The latter's hands were a flutter around her face and the former was wringing her own digits. Neither knew what was to be said or how to start and Hermione herself was ready to burst into tears.

"Well, I was wondering who would fill the extra space at the table." Hermione broke first and flung her arms around Mrs. Weasley, tears building and over flowing quick as they started. "Oh, dear. It's so good to see you."

And it was like she'd never been ostracised. She helped in the kitchen and with last minute decorations. The two talked about knitting and she caught Mrs. Weasley up on the interoffice Ministry gossip. She was hugged often and called dear and felt like  
she was home.

It almost went sideways when the twins showed up. As soon as their party arrived, they made their way to the kitchen to steel nibbles, as always. They both hovered by the fridge, staring as she stood frozen with a bowl of custard in her hands. George  
wolf whistled when his eyes took in her "Kiss the Witch, It's Christmas" apron.

"Well, if you insist." They moved simultaneously and kissed her cheeks. "Happy Christmas, Granger."

Fred squeezed her arm and refused to leave her side while she moved about the kitchen. So, George was hovering as well, and by extension Angelina. Which meant that she caught the contemplative look of Mrs. Weasley more times than she was comfortable with.

Harry seemed to have explained the situation to Ron, as they began working in tandem to keep her securely between them. She sat with one on either side at the table, and then on the couch for gift opening. It was nostalgic and reminded her of their days  
in Hogwarts.

"Well, you've had your body guards all evening." She jumped and nearly dropped the plate she washing. "Calm down, pet. Just me."

"Don't call me that, Fred."

He came to her side and began drying the clean dishes she'd set aside. "Call you what?"

"You know what." She vigorously scrubbed at a stubborn bit of grime. "What has all this nonsense been in aid of? To see me off balance? Have a good laugh at "Little Miss Know-It-All"?"

He set his towel aside and leaned forward, gripping the counter with his head turned away. "What more do I have to do here? You've shot me down at every turn, Hermione. I'm almost out of tricks."

She shoved the last dish under the water to rinse it and be done. "Maybe that's where the fault in whatever plan you have going." She tossed the rag in the sink and removed her apron. "I'm done with tricks now, Fred. I've had enough of your scheming for  
a life time. Happy Christmas."

She said her goodbyes for the night and apparated to her street. She made her way to her flat and lay out on her couch, exhausted and hurt. She stayed that way until Godwin tapped at her window. She opened it, took the gift and moved aside to let him.

When he didn't settle himself on his usual perch, she became concerned. "Godwin? Are you alright, darling?"

He hooted and took off. She stuck her head into the cold night air and watched him glide above the bustle below. He was all but lost amongst the witches and wizards hustling to there homes and various parties.

She sighed, rescind to his absence for at least that night. "Good plan, I suppose. I'm rubbish company right now anyway."

She had a spot of tea and read for a bit. When he hadn't returned after a couple of hours, she tucked in for the night. Crookshanks lay at her feet and she sniffled lightly. Lonely on Christmas was not in her plan, and no matter the reasoning she did  
it hurt more than she was expecting.

She wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep but was awoken by a tapping on a window. She hurried through her living room to let the owl in, relieved that he had come back. He was baring no gift and once again didn't fly in. Instead, he took off like the  
night before but instead of going to parts unknown he descended to the street below. He landed the arm of a lone, tall figure she recognised all too well.

Her breathe caught and she quickly made her down the stairs to the front door of the building. They stood still for a moment, her in the entry way and he under her window. He was the first to break the silence, nodding to her.

"Happy Christmas, pet."

She knew him well enough to see his smile, even at such a great distance. "Don't call me that." She fell off the last step of her stoop and her hand caught in her hair. "It was you. You?"

He shrugged and gave Godwin an affectionate pat. "Fantastic bit of magic isn't? That charm we placed on the wrapping goods. You said it was some of our best."

He set the owl off and he flew into the window she'd left open. "I told you I was almost out of tricks. All that's left is honesty. Now, stop being so stubborn. What more do I need to do here?"

His hand gestured to space between them. "I need you tell me how to make this gap disappear. How do we keep our lines from getting crossed. I cant convince myself, or anyone else come to think of it, that I'm not mad about you."

"Those are your tricks? For yourself and anyone else who thinks you, what, fancy me?" She wrapped her arms around herself to stave off the cold. "You'll get over it."

He nodded, an indulgent smile on his lips and he came to stand before her. "I thought that, too. But then you came down those stairs and I was so heartbroken that you were there with someone else. For some else. George hasn't stopped giving me grief since."

She furrowed her brow, confused by his reference and distracted by the hand now gently grasping hers. "Stairs? Just now?" When he shook his head she remembered a significant moment in her life, and the one time she'd felt like a princess. "The Yule Ball?  
Oh, Fred, just stop."

He gripped her hand tighter when she tried to pull away. "Hermione, why don't you stop for a moment. Stop thinking you can control everything. Things don't always happen as planned, clearly, or we would have been married ages ago and burdened with at  
least one child by this point. Yet, instead, I'm a drunken shag you regret and can't stand to be around."

She slapped him. "You stop thinking you know me! I don't regret it or can't stand to be around you. I can't stand myself. Do you honestly think that's how I wanted things to happen? That I planned to fall for you or hurt my best friend? It's not always  
about you."

She wasn't sure who kissed who, but they were snogging on the street before she could grasp the severity of the situation. She felt warm despite the cold and clung to his coat to keep her knees from buckling. His hands messaged her neck, fingers working  
magic that sent tingles down her spine and through her shoulders.

"Why, Fred? What makes us like this?" He pecked her lips again, and again, until she shoved him away enough to keep his mouth at distance. "I don't want a life like this. I don't want to fight with you, or any man. Make this make sense."

"I told you, pet. All that's left is honesty. All this lying to ourselves, to each other, causes nothing but bitterness. I think if we come clean and lay it all to bare, we'll be just fine. So, to test my theory, I'll start." He brushed hair from her  
face to meet her eyes. "I love you. I have been steadily going mad about you since my sixth year. I don't know when I fell in love with you, but I think it with all your "spew" rubbish."

"It was S.P.E.W." He dove in, catching her off guard, and kissed her. "Stop it. Now, are you quite finished? Good. I don't know if I'm in love you. I fancy you, a good deal, but you're many years a head of me in this mess."

He nodded, face more solemn than she'd seen since the Battle of Hogwarts. "But, I think I could. I would need time and your patience."

His lips twitched and he took her swiftly in his arms, lifting her off the ground and spinning. "I can't believe it. It's a miracle." He laughed at her bewildered expression when he set her down and could see her face once more. "You. You and me. Us.  
Well, mostly, yeah?"

She took a deep breathe and looked passed him in thought. "Take me to breakfast. Take me to breakfast and we'll give this a proper go."

He nodded eagerly before looking up suddenly. "What about your gifts? I worked very hard on this whole affair, pet. I would like to see it come to full fruition."

"It's Christmas all day. We'll get around to it."

He kissed her and his eyes were sparkling when he backed away, offering her his hand. "Come on. Let's get you in proper clothes and I'll take you out." She took it, offering him another kiss. "Happy Christmas, 'Mione."

"Happy Christmas, Fred."


End file.
